


hollow like the bottles we drain

by robo_beesknees



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: original character mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-07 21:39:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16416446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robo_beesknees/pseuds/robo_beesknees
Summary: "Ricky are you listening to me?" Tinsley frowns, arms folded tight against his chest as he leans against the door frame. Across the room Ricky does not look up from the punchbag, only stills long enough for Tinsley to continue. Small mercies."I mean it Rick. Mallers is pissed at that little stunt you pulled back there. He ain't gonna go easy on you next time."





	hollow like the bottles we drain

"Ricky are you listening to me?" Tinsley frowns, arms folded tight against his chest as he leans against the door frame. Across the room Ricky does not look up from the punchbag, only stills long enough for Tinsley to continue. Small mercies. 

"I mean it Rick. Mallers is pissed at that little stunt you pulled back there. He ain't gonna go easy on you next time."

There is something dark in Ricky's voice that Tinsley wishes he didn't recognise, like the smell of gasoline before a fire. "Wouldn't want him to." He turns, cocky grin cracking his face, arms spread wide, a taunt, but there's a tension in his body that hums with anticipation. "Besides," he says, "I'm Ricky godamn Goldsworth. As if some no good schmuck is gonna beat me."

Anger flares in Tinsley's stomach. "Don't," he warns.

Ricky's arms fall and he looks at Tinsley like a puzzle piece that won't fit. Tinsley can see the bruises that crawl up his torso; sickly yellows and purples so dark they look black. They both know how close he was to losing the last match.

Tinsley won't lose Ricky. He can't. 

Before Tinsley can say anything Ricky is in front of him, one hand gripping his shirt, the other soft against his jaw, thumb prodding gently at the cut on his bottom lip. The bravado is gone, something raw and endless in its wake that makes Tinsley ache. Around them the afternoon light falls hazy through the window, soft glow ethereal. 

Oh, how Tinsley would worship him.

"Please," Tinsley says. It's a ghost of a word, something desperate clawing its way up his throat. He doesn't know what he's asking for, but he presses his lips against Ricky's and prays for an answer he knows he will not receive. 

Ricky might not be a God, but devotion and blood tastes holy against his skin just the same.

 

**Author's Note:**

> title is from 400 lux by lorde.
> 
> losely based on the prompt "you are not a god." i don't really know what this is, but for once motivation and an idea hit me at the same time so i just went with it. it might turn into something more, it might not, but i do want to write more for these two regardless.  
> any comments are much appreciated, no matter their size. i don't mind constructive criticism, if you have any, but please be kind. it's my first fic.  
> thanks for taking time to read this!!


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